Love Without Reproach
by Daughter of the Lion
Summary: The North remembers, and I am a woman of the North. I married a Stark of Winterfell, bore Northern children, and defended the North until it was no more. And I await the return of the Kings, of the North and of Albion, for the darkness to fade and the sun to shine out the clearer.
1. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

 _ **Jen**_

I loved the sea. Being on a cramped caravel was natural to a woman who had spent her whole life in an island kingdom. I wore breeches when I chose and became an unofficial member of the crew, much to my father's ire. The small sailing ship had rounded Essos and bypassed most of the continent of Westeros to bring my family to my wedding. The kingdom of Camelot was much like the so called Seven Kingdoms in that it was made up of Great Houses as well as lesser nobles. We just had more of a magical problem plaguing our lands. Even today, many thousands of years later, it pains me to call my people a plague. Alas, they are gone, much like the kingdom I once pledged my life to protect. All that remains of Camelot, Albion, Westeros, and their people are but legends and songs. Verses about a way of life that veer so far from the straight and narrow it grows hard to remember the truth, and I survived it. This is the tale of the triumph and fall of honor, loyalty, and purity; the rise and destruction of truth and love and anything good in the world. Three headed dragons or great dragons could not save it; not fish nor wolves, nor lions nor flowers, nor stags nor suns. The North remembers, and I am a woman of the North. I married a Stark of Winterfell, bore Northern children, and defended the North until it was no more. And I await the return of the Kings, of the North and of Albion, for the darkness to fade and the sun to shine out the clearer. Until that day, I will remember, and pass my tale on to the generations so that the last heroes are never forgotten. I will not forget. The North remembers, and a Pendragon is three things, courage, strength, and magic. Let courage sustain this old soul.

* * *

Albion was not large, not much larger than some kingdoms in Essos. But we were strong. Strength and Courage, my father always said. Strength to fight and courage to lead. If only that was the whole truth. My father, Uther, was a shrewd politician, and knew he needed outside allies, and we were barely politically stable as it was. The Crown could not afford to favor one house over another, and this is where Westeros came in. Foreign enough to intrigue the minds of the people, and hopefully tavern rumor, but well known enough not to seem too suspicious. Father then sent out spies into all of Westeros to gather intel on the Crown and Great Houses as well as the lives and happiness of the smallfolk, who we called commoners. His original intention was to have me marry Joffery Baratheon, a child five years my junior. However, this was not to be as the reports that came back spoke of a horrible creature who was possibly the product of incest. My father loved me enough not to force me to marry the scum, and instead turned his eye North, having heard nothing but praise about the Stark family. They were regarded most highly for honor as well as mercy, something it was becoming apparent that the people of the South lacked. To my absolute surprise and utmost joy, Father gave me a choice, Baratheon or Stark. My choice was simple.

We already had some ties to the Crown of Westeros established through trade, and they were strong enough to hold without marriage being the cornerstone. With my people taken care of, I was free to choose. Stark or Baratheon? I am ashamed to say I never thought twice. Once aboard, I immediately set out to become a sailor, something I did quite successfully. I was swabbing the deck, thankfully wearing a skirt, when a page relayed that I was to go to the Captain's (Father's) quarters. As I entered, I called out "Yes, Father?"

"Jen, dear," That did not bode well for me. "As you well know, Arthur has been married for four years."

I nodded my head. "Yes, Father. I know." My brother, younger by a dawn, had married at six and ten in order to keep peace in the realm.

"It is possible, though I pray that it does not come to be true, that one of them may not be able to produce heirs."

Both of us breathed deeply. We'd all suspected it, but none could bear to tell Arthur or Gwen, who desperately wanted children. "Are you saying?"

"Yes. If, in fact, you marry, produce heirs, and these thoughts about Arthur and Guinevere are true, then you or your children will assume the throne."

"But what of Lord Robb? His son will be Lord of Winterfell. His children will know nothing but the North. Can you ask me to take that from him?"

"I will not be alive for much longer. My body wears thin. After this journey, I do not know how long it will be until it is Arthur who reigns." My father was not a kind man. He burned people at the stake for even being suspected of magic. Morgana's betrayal was the last straw. You could see it in his graying hair, and his taut face. Uther Pendragon had always been strong. He was gruff and in charge, a king who had authority and used it. To see him so vulnerable with me, it was almost frightening. "Amena," My family rarely used titles or formal names. "Amena Angharad, please. Our kingdom is not as stable as we used to be. Not after Morgana's betrayal. Please, give me this. Tell me that a Pendragon will always sit on the throne, even if it is your second or third child, even if the name is Stark."

That must have been a blow to his ego. Father loved family, and he was a proud ruler. To have a Stark on the throne, it would crush him. I gave him a sad smile. "If my lord husband agrees, it will be done." I did not know Robb Stark, but I bore him no ill will. And to have a child that was never truly yours, always belonging to another people, I couldn't give someone such a burden.

"Land-ho!" The scout's cry reverberated throughout my body. We were in the North, thank goodness I loved the cold, and soon enough I would no longer be a dragon, but a Wolf. The Wolf Who Breathed Fire.

 **Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, or had questions or comments, please review! Also, since I finally have a computer of my own, I will be able to work on Consequences of Translation**

 **THANK YOU SO MUCH!**


	2. Chapter Two

_**Chapter 2**_

 _ **Robb**_

I am not proud of how I acted upon learning of my engagement. I was angry and quite childish, with rampant unrighteous fury that eventually caused my father to step in and remind me that I was to be the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. It was time to stop acting like a boy, and instead be the man he and Mother raised me to be. I was to be a married man; my wife would be my top priority, and we would live for the North and each other, not ourselves.

Sansa, my sweet, naive little sister, was overjoyed. A real princess was coming to Winterfell. The epitome of a lady, bred pure, soft spoken, beautiful, loving, that was her vision of what my bride would be. Arya, however, wanted my wife to be like our Aunt Lyanna, a woman who could ride, shoot a bow, and swing a sword. Bran wished for her to be wise and loving, and sweet little Rickon just wanted her to be able to tell good stories. Jon had no expectations for this princess. He knew she would probably look down upon him for his bastard status much like Mother. Somehow, I didn't think that would be the case.

Meanwhile, I was simply nervous. On the day she came, her and her father and her brother, I couldn't think straight. Would she like me? The North? How would she treat my family? I didn't want an eternally meek wife; she was joining a wolf pack, she would need to have some sort of bite to withstand the North's bitterly cold winds and her equally cold people who weren't too fond of outsiders. I wasn't allowed to dwell on these thoughts, however, since trumpets sounded to signify the arrival of the Pendragons of Camelot.

* * *

The sight which stunned me was the lack of a large retinue. No carriages, no ladies dressed in silk gowns. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed that my bride hadn't come at all. At the head of the party rode three figures, two men and a woman who rode astride! I hear Sansa gasp at the impropriety of it and Arya's giggle that she'd have another kindred soul. My breath quickened as they neared and dismounted, with my father signaling for us to kneel; we were in the presence of a king after all. The elder man, obviously the king, spoke in a language unknown to us. The woman with them, who couldn't have been my bride for she was much too beautiful for the North, gracefully curtsied to Mother and Father. "My lords and ladies, my father asked you to rise. Family does not bow to family." I was surprised to hear no accent in her voice.

Her smile was kind and loving; for the most part it seemed genuine, but I couldn't tell if it was true. The other rider nodded his head, bright red cloak billowing in the wind. "My name is Arthur, and this is my sister Amena." I was embarrassed. In my anger, I did not even bother to learn the name of my betrothed. "I apologize for my father. He speaks your language, but not very well."

We nodded and rose, with my father deciding to speak. "Your grace, your highnesses, we welcome you to Westeros, to the North, and to Winterfell. Come, rest, and be fed. A feast has been prepared in honor of your arrival."

With silent acceptance, the Pendragon family followed. Once we reached a certain wing and were out of sight of the small folk and the other Lords and Ladies, the Mother, Father, and my soon to be good father left us to our own devices. The silence was tense as none of us knew what to say. My bride to be, Amena, her brother Arthur, and what looked to be a servant were silent, Amena looking almost cowed. Thankfully blunt, wolf like, little Arya broke the silence as she burst out with "Can you truly ride astride?"

The three foreigners laughed, a large belly aching laugh. "Yes I know how to ride astride, much to my father's chagrin. I can also beat Arthur in archery and all forms of close combat. Remember-".

Arthur became red with embarrassment. "That never happened-".

Amena and the servant chorused "Yes it did! And you know it!" I had a feeling that this conversation had happened many times before. The three looked at each other, seeming quite out of place. Even though she looked calm, Amena's hand shook. My heart froze. _Is she afraid of me? Have I done anything to give her the impression that I was cruel? Did my people scare this beauty of nature?_ _The direwolves that my father found are hidden in the stables, so they couldn't have scared her._ At least they were supposed to be. Amena gasped with what sounded like delight when the pack of giant wolves came around the corner.

"Is, is this a pack of direwolves?" I nodded my head, and to our utmost surprise, Greywind and Ghost came right to her, acting as friendly with her as they did with us. Lady and Summer went to that serving boy and sat at his feet, whining and yipping happily. Nymeria and Shaggydog joyously ran toward the Prince, circling around him before turning to their respective masters' sides.

Ghost left us, presumably to venture to find Jon, and Greywind moved to stand in between Amena and I and the rest of the wolves returned to their master's sides, and my confusion had yet to abate. Amena knelt at Greywind's side, smiling and petting his fur, shocking us all. Seemingly content, Greywind stretched and moved to look in Amena's eyes, almost as if he were willing her to say or do something. My bride-to-be blushed. "I'm afraid to say that I know next to nothing about you, my lords and ladies. I must confess, I dearly wish to."

Sansa, ever the lady, spoke quickly. "I am sure that a princess such as you has many more interesting tales than I ever could."

"Lady Sansa, I lived several years of my life not knowing my family or lineage. Your life must have been much more incredible than my own. You are to be my sister; I want to know you.".

 _Could she be real?_ I asked myself. Her hair reached her breasts and it was slightly curled. Her eyes were wise, her smile kind, and she was plump in the way many Northern women were, with muscles that made it obvious to any warrior that she trained with a sword. I smiled because I was worried that my bride would be a proper Southron lady who ne'er spoke out of turn and wilted at the thought of battle. Instead, Amena was a Northerner to the core, completely evident in the way she carried herself as well as her looks; there was only humility in her posture, no arrogance.

She smiled at me. "I do not know much of the North and I wish to know much more. Anything that you feel you can share with me would be very welcome."

I'd known her all of an hour and I was already besotted. "My lady Amena-".

"Please, simply call me Jen. Amena is my formal name."

"Formal name?"

"We all have one. The men of my family only use them on important documents. They are almost titles, except you choose them for yourself once you come of age."

Quiet and shy Bran spoke up, his voice having that quality of being wiser than his age. "And what, my lady, is your 'formal' name?"

"Amena Angharad."

"Which means?"

"Utterly pure love without reproach."

 _Why such a title?_ "Do you have to live up to these names, my lady?" Bran's inquisitive nature returned. "I try to. It's supposed to be how you wish to be remembered. I'd rather be remembered for my love than for military prowess."

"Though you'll be remembered for that too, Jen." _What a cheeky servant_ , I thought.

" _Errete es korakas!_ " Jen's tone was deceptively light. The two were obviously very close friends. _Is she in love with him?_ , the insecure part of my brain came rushing to the forefront of my mind. "Sure, Merlin, the High Deliverer will be written in history, but not with my name attached to the pseudonym, thank you very much!"

" _You're_ the High Deliverer?" Arya's eyes were wide. _Who is the High Deliverer?_ I wanted to ask, but obviously it was a touchy subject.

"I will answer that question eventually; preferably once my father leaves. But for now, put it out of your mind _deirfiúr bheag_." Jen's kind smile was back. I loved how easily the two had taken to each other. Especially since Mother and Sansa don't really like or know Arya, she needed a mother figure.

Arya nodded solemnly and spoke softly. "How about we let our guests refresh themselves before the feast?" It was the most ladylike I had ever seen her, and I was proud. However I was a bit worried. Did her father not know she fought on the battlefield? If so, how did she manage such a thing. However, my worry was not great; I could tell she was trustworthy. She had gained the approval of both Ghost and Greywind, who didn't let anyone they didn't like close to their masters. She didn't have dishonest intentions, but I wasn't entirely sure about her father. I'd have to pay close attention these next two weeks.

 **AN: I have moved King Robert's arrival back as to give these relationships time to develop before Ned and the girls go South. I am not sure how much of Jon I should put in here. I will have a poll running for a week to help me decide if he is going to stay in Winterfell, go to the Wall as normal, or be recalled on the authority of the King in the North. Thank you and please review! Updates come much sooner that way.**


	3. Chapter Three

_**Chapter Three**_

 _ **Jen**_

I was surprised to find that I had been given my own quarters near the Stark family. Most people would have placed my household and I (not that it was large; it simply included Merlin) in a guest wing as far away from the family as possible. Instead, my temporary rooms were placed next to Arya and Sansa's rooms and I couldn't be happier. To be so readily accepted by my new family was a dream come true. I had decided to reciprocate that love and trust as much as humanly possible, starting with Arya. The poor girl seemed so alone, with both her mother and sister turning their back on her. I knew what it felt like, I lived it every day until my father was able to find me again. She needed a friend, and that I would be.

I was thankful to have brought with me several of my smaller swords and daggers which I had planned to give as gifts, and I decided that some practice would not be unwise. Preparations for the feast tonight would be going on and no one would be on the field. My own sword, the twin of my brother's Excalibur, which had been called Mercy, rested in my amulet that I never took off from 'round my neck since my days as a tactician.

I had been stolen from my father when I was mere hours old, and my adoptive parents had been kind enough to barter for my release from the bandits that captured me. In their kingdom, which by now must be another part of Great Britain, women were expected to train as both healers and warriors in order to protect their homes in the event of war. The daughter of the king was no exception. A conqueror came in when I was only ten years of age and he demolished my home and took control of my country. Only magic had saved me from that fate, allowing me to escape the battle and join another kingdom. There, due to the desire to reclaim my homeland, I trained day in and day out until the king of the land took me in as his master tactician at three and ten. From there my plans, heralded as both genius and pure madness, earned me the name High Deliverer.

Word had spread throughout the kingdoms of a person gifted with the ability to change the tide of a war, to take any battlefield and decide the victor. My father needed a new tactician, and as such asked my good friend and king if he would lend me to him. Seeing a fellow ruler's pain at not being able to care for a kingdom, he relented. I followed Uther home to Camelot, disguised as a male, and was able, after two grueling years of near constant battle, to turn the tide and save Camelot from near destruction, at a large price. My own life, and my brother's. My father had found out that I heralded from the kingdom in which his daughter disappeared, and his final task was for me to find her. I agreed, but not before negotiating an end to the war in which Arthur's hand was traded. At least he fell in love with his wife. Not many men have that luxury.

The High Deliverer vanished that night. He was never to be seen again. In his place was the daughter of Uther Pendragon, finally returned home from her life in that other kingdom. Even though this betrothal came out of me returning home, I am glad to say that I found a family.

I shook myself out of my thoughts as I made it to the training yard. I started with the basics, my muscles sore from not practicing in two moons. Slowly, my body remembered what it used to do. The complex maneuvers came slower than the basics, but after an hour or so, I was even more sore, but much more relaxed. I decided not to work on magic out in public, so as to not have to explain my power to my father or Lord Stark. I heard footsteps behind me and instantly reacted. My blade clanged with another's and we fought. It seemed like hours as the man and I danced, metal glinting, bodies sweating, minds alight. Finally I was able to knock him off balance and he ended up with Mercy his throat. How poetic.

"I yield." His voice was quiet and gruff. "I have not met a female warrior."

I gave him my hand and helped him up. "And you won't meet many more. My name is Jen."

"Jon Snow."

"My apologies my lord, I didn't expect any company on the field."

"It is alright my lady. And I am no lord. I'm a bastard."

"Aye, and you are still a person."

Jon was surprised. "Whatever your parents did, yes that is wrong, but every child is a blessing. Not an insult or a disgrace. But we both smell like one. We should bathe before the feast."

"Lady Stark has forbidden me from coming because my presence could insult the Pendragons."

"Don't worry; I am not insulted. My own father has a bastard daughter I love as if she was my full-blooded sister."

"You're the woman-".

"That your brother is marrying? Aye; that I am." His direwolf, Ghost, came trotting up to us. Instantly, I reached my hand out to him and he came, acting almost like a dog.

"He's never done that to anyone before."

"He's only met me once."

"Jen!" Merlin came running. "What on earth!"

"What, Merlin? Was Arthur being a dollophead again?"

"Of course, but what I meant was the feast starts in an hour! You need to dress. And bathe."

"I'm coming Merlin. Go attend Princess. I'll be fine."

He nodded and ran off. I shyly turned to Jon and smiled. "Sorry about that. But do come tonight. Don't stay away on my account."

I ran away smiling. Little did I know that I had just changed the entire course of Westerosi history.

 **AN: I'm sorry this is so short, but I wanted to tie up some loose ends as well as introduce Jon. I think that if he had been with Robb in the war, things would have turned out differently, and Robb would have acted more like a Stark than a Tully like I feel he did towards the end. Please review, they give me fuel to write!**


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four-Jen

The bane of my existence was primping. Sure, I loved being dressed up for feasts and balls, but I hated the process of it. Usually I do the minimum, maybe a little homemade extras for night like tonight. However, to both my utmost pleasure and hatred, my soon to be mother-in-law or I guess good-mother as they say in the North, and good-sister arrived at my chambers soon after I had bathed.

"My ladies! I apologize-".

"Nonsense child. We have come to help you prepare." Catelyn Stark seemed to have aged with utmost grace.

"Plus, I really wanted to get to know you." Sansa's young love and beauty captivated my senses and made me love her as my little sister all the more.

I smiled. "Well it is nice to have help. Usually I end up doing this all myself."

"Do your ladies-in-waiting not attend you?"

"I have none."

Sansa's eyes were wide. "How? You're a princess! Don't you have servants of your own?"

"Merlin has always suited my needs just fine. I grew up on the streets, fighting for survival; I have never needed much. Though I have to say, I do love silk."

"I shall have to remember that." Mother, how quickly I had adapted to thinking of her as such, seemed lost in thought as she helped me dress in what I assumed to be the northern style. My hair was down except for a braided crown atop which rested my favorite silver circlet. Gold had never been my color, even if I was a Pendragon. Stark now, I suppose.

"My lady," I started to address Lady Stark.

"Oh please dear; do call me Mother. In a short while we will be family."

"Mother," the word made my smile all the more genuine. "might I ask if you think I will do well here? You were also new to the North once."

The look in her eyes was far away. "I was young, scared, and Southron. I knew just as much as you did about the North or a weirwood or the Old Gods. I think you will adapt to the North far better than I have. From what Sansa has told me, you are the first person not from the North to not look at us with annoyance or thinly veiled anger. You may not have understood the North or her people, but you accepted them almost immediately. From a future daughter, I could ask nothing more in this world."

That brought tears to my eyes. To be so readily accepted my even my future mother was a blessing in that world. People were different. Family held more value than it does today. People believed in things like honor and sacrifice, hard work and trust. Not like the world you all know. People had morals that had substance. You knew where they came from and the lessons learned in times of trouble were carried out in times of joy. Not today. So to have a woman back then give her son and one day the charge of her family to me after mere hours was a blessing that I could never comprehend what made me so deserving of it.

"Thank you my lady. I mean, Mother." The three of us shared smiles of familial love and then a knock sounded at the door. I knew that knock. It was Merlin's knock.

"Jen, your _fear nuadh-pòsda_ is here to escort you." I sighed at Merlin's horrid timing. I loved my best friend, but he was never good at timing.

" _Estoy veniendo_ Merlin. _Dame un momento._ " Ah, the wonders of being a wanderer. I knew many languages as could pick them up with astonishing ease. If only this old brain worked the same today.

I smiled at these two Stark women and moved to open the door. Merlin's glower reached my eyes first and I was concerned. Once he saw me a smile lit up his face. "Jen,"

"You don't address her by a title?" Little Sansa gasped.

"My friends address me by name little one. Merlin, you said Robb was here?"

"I am here." My eyes turned towards the eldest Stark and I had to keep myself from gasping. I hadn't really noticed how handsome he was. He had a combination of Stark and what I assumed to be Tully features that would have turned the heart o' any maid. "Your Grace," he took my hand and kissed it, successfully making my cheeks blush in a way they hadn't in years. "It is an honor."

"Please good sir," I slipped in to the vernacular of my homeland. "the honor is mine." He smiled at me as he returned to his perfect posture.

"If it would please you, do I have your goodwill?"

Merlin's and my eyes widened. How could he know the intricacies of our courtesies? "Aye, my lord, you have it." My throat went dry. He was not asking something he had been told to ask, he didn't have to personally ask to court me. I was already marrying him. _Maybe I won't have such a hard time after all._ I mused.

"Do I have it in great measure?" It was obvious that neither my Lady Mother nor Sansa knew what he was asking. Who had he talked to about it? I am not certain. But whomever he spoke to knew the Court of Camelot well. Maybe he had spoken to Lancelot. He is the most honorable knight I have ever known.

"Yes my lord; in great measure." Robb smiled and gave me his arm.

"Shall we depart then?"

"Indeed we shall." My eyes met Merlin's and I knew what he was going to ask. "Merlin, go do what you must with haste." He nodded solemnly and left the room in the most graceful fashion I had ever seen in the six years I had known him. I took a deep breath as I entered the hall with the all of the eyes of the Northern lords on me. Perhaps Morgana's lessons _could_ be put to good use.


	5. Chapter Five

I smiled at the lords of the North, making sure that I appeared to be combining my heritage in Camelot with my new kingdom of the North. Even there, appearances mattered. No need to alienate someone as of yet. Robb, to his credit, was entirely serene as we approached the head table, respectfully acknowledging my father and Lord Stark.

"Welcome, my son, to our family." My father spoke in our tongue, but I was scarce able to contain my shock, much less translate. We had been in the North for a sennight traveling to Winterfell, and the North had changed my father. He was not cold, angry, and closed off. I saw him smile and laugh which I had seen a handful of times in the years I had known him. He represented Strength, and I had never seen him as anything but. To readily welcome someone to the family was nigh a miracle.

"My father bids you welcome to our family, my lord." I murmured to Robb.

"He nodded and replied with "You honor me, your grace."

"Come my son," Lord Stark called to us. "and come, daughter. Let us begin!" The crowd of lords cheered and began to feast in earnest.

The North wasn't a King's court. There were no political games played at this feast. It was simply a celebration for the marriage of the heir to the North. It made me smile as I slowly abandoned the courtly manners from Camelot and ate with gusto.

A young boy, a lordling of about ten winters shyly walked to the table and bowed before me. "A gift from our house, your highness. May it serve you well in the North."

It was a beautiful book, embossed with the Stark sigil of the direwolf. Inside, legends northern children grew up knowing filled its pages. Songs, sonnets, and other literary treasures gleamed upon the parchment. "You have my thanks, my lord. This is a truly wondrous gift to receive."

He smiled like only a child can, filled with joy at the smallest of things. His mother, who had been watching the exchange, no doubt judging if I was fit to rear Winterfell's heirs, smiled warmly at me and nodded in both gratitude and approval.

Dancing soon began in earnest, and with my...well not the most lithe body, I had a hard time learning the court dances. But the dances of the North were like her people. They were a combination of the civilized and the uncivilized, of power and morality...for the most part. Some lords gave me a queer feeling. Their dances were much like the clan dances I had known as an ambassador or the quiet formal ones of the druids. I was a quick study; growing up the way I did only reinforced the quality in me.

"My lady," Robb held his hand out to me. "do you wish to dance?" I nodded and took his hand, and was immediately pulled into the energetic crowd.

"My lord,"

"Please, call me Robb."

"Then call me Jen."

"As you wish."

"Might I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Why do you wish to court me?"

He seemed startled. "Whatever do you mean?"

"My lord, I am already promised to you. I know no man that would continue to court a woman who is already his betrothed."

His smile was kind and his voice gentle. But I could tell he was as scared as I. "Look at my father and mother." I did as he wished and smiled at the Warden of the North and his lady wife. It was obvious to all that they loved each other. "They also had an arranged marriage, and instead of remaining distant as most are wont to do, they each poured all they had into their relationship. I want to love you even more than my father loves my mother. That will never happen if I don't try."

My eyes teared up. For a woman, arranged marriages are a most frightening experience; you tend not to know your husband until the day you wed. To have this fortnight to even speak to him was the greatest of blessings. I did not worry of a man so vile that I could bear to do my duty to my people. One day, he wanted to love me. It was more than I could hope for. "Robb, I don't know what to say."

"Simply say that you will try. That is all I ask."

"Of course." I smiled with cheek. "I have given you my good will, my lord. I must give you a chance to earn it."

He laughed. "This life will never be dull, my lady Jen."

"Not if I have my say-so."

If he was surprised by my street speak, it was imperceptible. "The first lesson my mother and sisters have taught me. The lady is nigh always right."

" _Nigh_ always?"

"Nigh always."

"Fair enough, my lord. I shan't ask you to humble yourself down even further."

"I would."

I raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"If you asked, I would humble myself down as far as the gods would allow."

" _Gratiae Deo."_ I murmured. Latin had never made its way to Westeros as so no one knew the tongue. Most of you do not know it either, which is a shame. It's quite beautiful. "You are a good man, Robb. There are too few good men in the world."

Robb bowed as the dance ended and my brother came to claim me for the next set. "Thank you for the dance, my lady. Do I still have your good will, even after I have made myself into a fool?"

"You never were a fool my lord. And yes, you have my good will in great measure."

As Arthur claimed my hand, Robb left to claim Sansa's. "Sister," the smirk was evident in my brother's voice. "Why do you blush?"

"Because unlike you, no matter how Morgana and I have toiled, are not a gentleman like Robb is. And you know as well as I that I am not used to courtly life or its compliments."

"Then I shall enjoy your fluster." Arthur paused. "He is treating you well?"

"So far, yes. And I have good reason to believe he will continue to do so."

There was a lull in the conversation as the dance became more complex. After a while, a sad, pensive look came over Arthur's face. "I am sorry Sister."

"Whatever for?"

"We live in a time of _peace_." He spat out the word as if it was a foul curse. "Yet, you still had to marry for the sake of it."

Any animosity I'd ever had toward my brother melted at those words, and grace took its place. "Arthur, we are royalty. For all the comforts and awe afforded to our station, we must carry out a duty that demands we give all we have for our people, for their needs far outweigh our own."

"Your life has been hard enough."

"Are we the gods that we can judge that? Aye, it has not been the life a princess usually leads, but the gods have smiled down on me through it all. This situation would likely have played out the same, at least I am already a Northerner at heart. Would I know the value of mercy or of grace as much if I had been raised alongside you? I think not. All of my hardship has made me who I am and I rejoice for that. My life could have been much worse."

"But the men of Westeros-"

"Don't hold to their vows? Most men of the world don't. I know that there is a chance of that happening. Our own father did not hold to those vows." I saw Arthur cringe at that. That the man my brother idolized had not been faithful to our mother hurt him more than he was willing to say. "The North and the family I am marrying into, however, value honor above all else."

"Jen, could you honestly forgive him?" Arthur wanted to say something more, but held back.

"What our mother could not and most of the women in the world can not do, I will. My life will not be driven by anger. I will forgive even what may kill me inside. I will not become angry or bitter."

"Even if it costs you?"

"Even if it costs me. My calling, _my very name_ , compels me to love without reproach. So I shall."

 **Word Count: 1423**

 **I hope you liked this one! As it is a long weekend, I will try to update again, but no promises. Also, these next chapters will cover more time than the last few have. So if you liked this, please favorite, follow, and review! They always bring a smile to my face.**


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter 6

Jen

Clang! Our swords danced with danger behind every step. Clang! Clang! Clang! Jon's sword was heavier than mine which put me on the defensive, a position which I liked very much. The best offense is a good defense in my mind. Rome believed the opposite. Clang! He caught one of my weak spots, a move which surprised me. Only the king I served under knew those after hours of training and long campaigns. Jon would grow to be a fantastic swordsman. Clang! I compensated well but was thrown off my rhythm a bit and as such switched from defense to offense, swiftly taking Jon down.

I offered my hand to help him up. "Good one. You nearly had me there."

"That is not possible. You are a master with the blade. However you did seem deep in thought. If it is not too forward, might I ask what troubles you?"

I smiled. Jon was, well Jon was special. He was a quiet, yet profound man. He preferred the background and as such, we got along nicely. But he listened well for a man of eight and ten. He wasn't inclined to fight and was generally interested in what I had to say. In the short week and a half since I had known him, Jon had become a dear friend, and one I could keep if he wouldn't join the blasted Night's Watch.

"Simple worries, Jon."

"Worry is not simple, my lady. Tell me what troubles you."

Many things, I wanted to say. My relationship with your brother, the fact that I have magic, the worry that I won't be accepted in the North. "Many things Jon."

"Then tell me the heaviest one."

"The heaviest one? Can worries truly be weighed?" I sighed at my own cynical behavior. "It may be the most vain of my worries, but I wonder if my life here in the North will be, well fulfilling and joyful."

"Fulfilling and joyful? Not happy and romantic?"

"Nay. Romantic? I can hope but I cannot ask for such a trivial thing in an arranged marriage. Happy? I don't believe life is meant to be lived happy. No one has the right to be happy, but instead, as a wise man once said, they have the right to pursue happiness. But joy, joy can be found in the most painful scenarios. Camaraderie can be found amidst soldiers, a family, God willing, in marriage not chosen for oneself. I worry that I will not be able to find that joy, or that I will fail at living my life for Robb and the North."

Jon stayed quiet for a long time. "Lady Catelyn is not of the North, and acts very ladylike, very Southron, and she is the Lady of Winterfell. She may hate me, but she loves five Northern children." He looked at me and gave one of his rare smiles that made my heart melt, no matter how forbidden that was. "My lady, I do believe the North will come to love you as she has come to love the Lady Catelyn. Worry not. Your life will have a purpose here."

The unspoken _unlike mine_ hung in the air. "Jon. Your life has a purpose. You are the source of wisdom and council for Robb, Arya, Bran, and now myself. You have never needed to do something to be worthy of a purpose." On impulse, I hugged him. "Jon, you are loved more than you can imagine. No need to look elsewhere for the love you have here." I rose, sheathing my sword. "I must go. Sansa wishes to have tea with me. But think upon what I have said. I will do the same."

I left the godswood and walked back to the keep, feeling lighter than I had in many moons. "How dare you?"

I look up to see Lady Catelyn glaring at me. "Pardon, my lady, for I do not understand."

"How dare you go have, have a tryst with, with that bastard? You-".

"I am greatly offended by such an accusation. As stated by my obvious training attire, I was simply practicing swordplay. Lord Robb knew I could fight and since he was helping Lord Stark with the preparations for the arrival of the King, he has asked Jon to train with me. It is not your place nor your right to accuse me in such a way. Please remember that next time when you accuse someone of a higher authority without knowing all of the facts." _Whatever happened to being kind, Jen? You should have thought this one through._

"Your Grace, forgive me, but he is a bastard. However honorable and true your intentions were, the same could not be said for him."

"Do you accuse your husband's son, your children's brother, of lechery?"

"I, he's a bastard!"

"Lady Stark, he may be a bastard, but he has more honor and sense than you seem to do. Please refrain from making moronic accusations of a man who has not done anything to even suggest such a thing. People may think you have taken leave of _your_ senses."

I shouldn't have done that. Why risk alienating her and Sansa when I needed them as allies in the family? However I couldn't stand the way she treated Jon. It made her seem slightly mad and obsessive, traits which worried me slightly. However my worries ceased to exist in my anger.

"Princess Amena, people already speak of your lack of sense. People may think you a saint in your kingdom, but here it is frowned upon to spend such time with a bastard who doesn't even know his own mother, or having male servants which make your honor questionable."

" _Di immortales!_ " My Greek ancestry came out strong and I gave into my emotions, and act which was unbefitting of a princess and tactician. "My lady, Merlin is married to _my_ bastard sister whom was recently captured and taken gods know where! He saved my brother's life and as such was awarded with a position in our household. You have no right to say such things about Jon Snow either, my lady, for it was _your_ son who asked him to train with me. If you raised the son you say you did, then he wouldn't have sent me with a man who was after my virtue. Please rethink your stance on Jon Snow, for the Bastard of Winterfell seems to have more sense than its Lady. Now I have nothing more to say upon this subject. Good day, Lady Stark."

I walked off, and I finally noticed that Robb had hidden in the godswood and listened to my conversation with his mother, and I daren't think that he had heard my conversation with Jon Snow. I might have just ruined any chance of a happy marriage. What was I thinking? _Quid pro mori_ , no? For what would one die? I couldn't help but think that I had committed suicide in defending Jon Snow. Gods help me.

 **AN: I am so sorry I have been gone for so long! Life has decided to drop the proverbial other shoe about ten too many times. But alas, I have finally returned! And proceeded to potentially ruin the relationship of Robb and Jen. Tell me what you think will happen next in the comments. Also, I have need of a girl from a minor house in the North, so OC's are welcome in the comments or PM's (I do not have a set formula, it is up to you what you decide to include. The more, the better.). Thanks for reading and please, please review! Reviews make my day!**

 **All my love**


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